A simple broth (Human in Zootopia)(AU)
by Arthur Jeremy Pearson
Summary: An old family recipe of broth heated with carrots, meats, paranoia, and a thick Gary stock. (Human in zootopia) (Transformation) Image (c) me Arthur Jeremy Pearson
1. Chapter 1 - Just getting there

One moment I was typing a story on a computer at work, and the next I was falling backward. THUMP. My butt landed hard on concrete, I spilled backward, and I was scrambling to take in my new surroundings. It was a city street with buildings of slightly unfamiliar architecture.

And there were animals wearing clothes and walking on two legs.

My mouth dropped open an inch.

Antelopes, elephants, foxes, tigers, sheep, rabbits, deer, giraffes, and on and on. Wearing T-shirts, shorts, earphones, glasses. Pushing strollers and walkers, with pets and backpacks. Skateboards and sunglasses. But I was forced to stop staring fairly quick.

My eyes had filled with tears of joy.

Rubbing them away, I caught a look at my paws. Paws, not hands.I had paws!

And no clothes. /Eep!/

Mammals were largely ignoring me, walking around me as I struggled to stand up and look at myself closer. Blinking at my feet, I said "Plantigrade. Huh." And pawed myself up and down. "Hmm... thinner? Maybe?" As a human I was technically obese at 245 lbs and 5'11", but so are most Americans. The fur made me confused.

Some mammals were headed toward where I was getting my bearings, so I moved out of the way, happily flopping my big clownlike rear leg feet on their relatively short thighs and calves. /I bet I could go on all fours, no problem!/ I thought to myself, smiling.

Mammals streamed past my location, and I stood there simply content to mammal-watch, occasionally wiping tears of joy from my eyes. I only got the occasional odd look, I'm guessing nudity is still frowned upon, but no one was freaking out.

Eventually I realized I was loitering, and the building behind me was some sort of business other mammals wanted to use. I didn't recognize the alphabet being used, much less what the words were. It had a sign of a little rabbit winking and giving the "peace" sign. I chuckled, and then started to walk.

It'll be hard learning a new language, culture, society.

But totally worth it.


	2. Chapter 2 - Reading

Naked, I had no ID. An alien, I could not speak the language.

When spoken to, I'd always TRY English, but it never worked. Good thing "shrugging", "running away" and "shaking your head" are universal. Luckily, this world had a similar abundance of food like Earth, and I had no qualms about dumpster diving, despite the telltale scents of rot and offal and whatnot I picked up.

My first hour spent in jail was very welcome for the shower they gave. The shower room was fully tiled, and when the showers stopped I was left alone for a moment. I was really wet.

/Wet! Ooh, boy!/

I crouched to all fours, tensed, then SHOOK! How nice! Shooka shooka shook!

They were expecting that, I guess, and had towels plus (somehow very quiet) hair driers waiting in the next room.

But then they put me in a generic holding cell with (from what I could smell) some very anxious mammals, full of bavado to mask their fear. I kept my nose down, but my inability to communicate bred confusion and hatred.

The jail hospital was nice, too, once I'd regained consciousness. More questions and shrugging ensued. With perhaps less enthusiasm than before. I was having a hard time keeping a bright spirit.

But soon they left me alone, and I struggled to rest against my bandages and wounds.

The next day, a goat and a mouse came to visit me. As soon as I saw they had clipboards, I wiggled my eyebrows, smiled gamely and warmed up my shrugging muscles. "Hello there, Billy and Mickey."

They had a lot of questions for me, and they talked with each other more than me. The goat eventually did the "my name is" pantomime, and then gestured to me. I smiled and nodded. "My name is Arthur. Arthur." I said, gesturing to myself. "Your name is [Bleaty McBleatster Sounds], but I'm going to call you Billy. And yes, YOUR name is [Squeaky McSqueakster Sounds] but I'm going to call you Mickey."

More questions, shrugging, and strange looks. Eventually I figured out they were trying a variety of languages of this Zootopian world. I smiled and shook my head.

"English. I'm speaking English." I mimed my paws as if they were a mouth, and then nodded encouragingly to them. "English."

This was going to take a while.

Zootopian social services soon had a hold of me and the put some books in front of me.

If "Just arriving here" was a high, this managed to blow it out of the water.

Books!

I won't relate the stumbling attempts at language I made.

I made it clear I could speak "English." When shown a map, I shrugged and shook my head.

All the while, I was learning about THEM.

Somehow mice were intelligent. I was pretty sure that shouldn't be possible for their size, but there it was. I always smelled a group of mice when I saw one, so maybe there was some sort of collective intelligence going on there.

But most interesting was what they served me to eat...


	3. Chapter 3 - Eating

They led me to the cafeteria of the Zootopia Social Services building, and let me loose. I guess they thought I couldn't get into trouble eating in a cafeteria. Boy, were THEY wrong!

The food lines had your various standard food bins. Mostly veggies and roots, spices and others. All freshly cooked and particularly wonderful new smells. But there was one station my sniffer got really excited about.

Meat.

Back when I was dumpster diving, I'd found little meat in the trash. There was occasionally fish and poultry, the natural vermin that infest trash, plus various processed meaty pastes of some sort, but by and large it was spoiled veggies. It was an adventure every dumpster dive. Sniffing is SUPER fun! I was in danger of spraining my tail from all the wagging.

But as far as substantial, cooked, prepared meat, I hadn't experienced it, until...

The savory sticks of veggies I'd already put on the tray were forgotten, and I nearly dropped them on my way to the Holy Land.

Mutton.

There were dinner plates stacked up nearby, and my eyes did not literally grow to their size, but they tried. I sucked in air and it felt like I'd already eaten an entire sheep, wool included.

Wait. Wool?

Yes, wool. There was wool nearby. And ... I blinked at the plate of food, and slowly became aware there was an actual living sheep in an apron standing right behind it holding a weapon.

A gooey dollop of saliva struggled free from the pool in my lower jaw and dropped to my plate as our eyes locked. I shut my mouth and tried to suck back the wetness on my chin, unconsciously licking my lips as my skull sockets struggled to contain my bulging eyes.

Mammals were looking at us. I managed to blink, and realized the weapon in the sheep's hand was a serving fork, and it had a mutton chop on the end of it.

He placed it on a plate, and handed the plate to me.

I sniffed some more, and didn't detect any anger or apprehension or anxiety from HIM. Just me. He seemed to think this was perfectly normal. I looked at the meat.

It looked delicious.

I looked at him. He looked bored, and blinked at me. Waiting. For me to move?

I nodded, smiling a lopsided, confused grin as I looked around at everyone around me looking at me. I was holding up the line. Still nodding and grinning, I started moving along.

It was THEN the sheep started to get upset, frowning, and shook his head at me. The tone in the line changed, too. Everyone was acting like I'd done something wrong. The line had stopped, actually, and the antelope behind me folded his arms and huffed in offense.

"Oh... kay... ?" Grinning in desperate apology, I handed the plate of delicious smelling food back, hands akimbo looking for a lifeline.

That, apparently, was The Last Straw. No one explained to them I was actually a creature from a parallel universe that only looked like your average brown wolf. The antelope socked me in the face and shouted at me. From the rhythm, I guessed he said "How DARE you?!"

I abandoned my tray and took off, herbivores all talking heatedly in various states of great offense.

About ten minutes later, Billy found me. Seeing MY distress and my pantomimed confusion, he made reassuring noises, and led me back to the cafeteria. Mammals were still pretty ticked off and were not impressed with my puppy dog eyes. But the exact same plate of meat was there waiting for me. It took a little encouragement, but Billy walked me through what I SHOULD have said and done. Serious, respectful, and humble. No smiling like I'd done. Don't reject the gift like I'd done. And then he told me the payer:

I repeated the sounds as best I could, and only then, could I eat.

Soon after I remembered reading about this in a kid's book earlier, and was able to match up the words Billy told me with the symbols in the book.

"[Thank you for your kindness. I, a humble wolf, respect the spirit whose home this once was.]"


	4. Chapter 4 - Stalking

Other mammals in my position might get some sort of crazy idea in their head. Try to rock the boat. Meet Nick Wilde. Romance Judy Hopps. Catch the Bad Guys himself and take credit for having an unfair advantage knowing the script.

Not me. I had no ambition. I was just a happy wolf. Happy just living here in Slightly More Realistic Zootopia. I had a happy hobby of "mammal watching" and reading history, learning their language, learning learning learning.

Mammal Resources helped me get a job washing dishes. It was hard work, but I wasn't too proud to turn it down. After several months, I was able to afford my own little apartment and I'd have to say I was getting the hang of the language. Was it my degree in computer science and the 8 programming languages I'd learned? Perhaps the two years of college-level German I took? Was I stupidly overconfident?

Let's go with that last one.

One day, I saw a tiger doing something strange.

His nose caught a scent and he looked around with a curious gaze. Wondering what he was doing, I followed, and quickly picked up on the scent, too. Definitely some sort of bovine. A musk ox or something - a female - a cow. Different from the other oxen, somehow. I know I hadn't seen any stereotypical human-like cows with the sack udders, so I pictured it might be that we're looking for. The tiger was way ahead of me down the block, though, and I had to follow only by scent.

Aaand... the trail ended at a bus stop. When I arrived, I saw the tiger making note of the times and checking his phone. Soon, "two" and "two" looked at each other in my mind, nodded, and got together.

"[Excuse me.]" I said before I thought. /What are you doing?/ The tiger turned toward me and blinked. I sniffed. He sniffed. He gave me a look.

"[You know what I'm doing.]" The tiger said casually softly, and walked away.

He was wrong. I only suspected.

* * *

I didn't know where along the route the tiger was going to strike, so I tried following the trail back to where the musk ox lived, but got distracted and lost. The next day, I just staked out where I'd seen the tiger first catch the Ox's scent.

Right after I sat down in my hiding place, the tiger showed up. Seemingly oblivious to my presence. I blinked a few times, considered getting down, but decided not to get involved. Just watch.

When I was a security officer, that's the joke I made about what they wanted me to do: Observe, and Detect. (As opposed to Serve, and Protect...)

So I watched. Eventually, a female musk Ox walked up behind the tiger. The tiger was staring off into the distance, thinking to himself, and the Ox walked right by.

Startled, he spoke up. "Excuse me!" He raised a paw and chased after her a few feet before stopping. I approached so I could maintain visual contact, and saw the two of them talk for a moment. The ox woman wore a shawl and had been walking oddly. Elderly? She seemed shocked by what the tiger was telling her.

"[A-are you certain?]" The tiger only nodded. Grimly? The ox looked sad.

"[I'm sorry. Maybe I'm wrong. Just...]"

She just shook her head, and the tiger looked... defeated?

"[Please... don't tell anyone. For me?]" The ox screwed up some courage. "[I knew something was wrong. You're probably right. I should go see a doctor, just to make sure.]"

The tiger nodded sadly, and the ox took out her cell phone. Old phone, from the looks of it. With big buttons.

It was all making sense, now. I took my leave.


	5. Chapter 5 - Parallels

On my way to work one day, I caught sight of a brand new giant billboard showed Gazelle and her hit single "Try Everything." And I saw Mayor Lionheart on a tv. Yes, his name was an inhuman combination of whuffs and growls... but there's no mistaking a real Zootopia character from what I remembered of the movie. This just confirmed it. I was in Zootopia.

But what stopped me was the fact that near Lionheart, I had also seen a doting Bellweather in tow.

In Zootopia... BEFORE the movie took place!

/And if it was going to follow the Zootopian timeline.../ I tried to think. /Did anyone actually DIE in the movie? By doing nothing, being an oblivious mammal-watching bystander, am I being moral here keeping my snoot down as it plays out? WILL it play out just like the movie?/

/And what does that really mean? Am I ... fictional?/ Soon, my mind wandered into more and more selfish spirals. Would I get to see any of them, will I ever hang out with Clawhauser or Flash... me, me, me...

Just myself.

Not about others...

...

Was this the moment in which I can't forgive myself for missing it? COULD I have realized it then? I know I didn't realize it at the time, but didn't I have enough clues? Did it have to be days and days later before I read that one last thing that made it all click?

...

It haunts me.

* * *

Anyway. Soon, I was at work and it was "slosh, splash, rub, repeat" in the back of the Crunchy Zen Cafe. /Nothing like work to distract you from existential crises./ I didn't like washing my dishes back on Earth, but here I was letting my Inner Raccoon bubble forth a bit. My worries faded under the grueling work.

Jerry Buckthorn (deer in a suit) had hired me on recommendation from Mammalian Services. My immediate supervisor was his son Phil. (Also: a deer in a suit.)

"Pearson! [Get your meat-eating butt out here.]" I wiped my gloves. Phil was holding up some tufts of black fur. "[You got to keep your shedding to a minimum, Pearson. And don't use the main entrance.]"

I looked at my full-body-hairnet-encased brown furred hide, and then at the black fur. I sniffed it. Then, I cocked my head. "[That's not mine. I always use the back entrance, especially after that one time. I don't even think that's wolf.]" Phil was always calling me one of his pet names for predator. Did that constitute a hostile work environment if it was a prey species? Are predators The Perpetually Guilt-Ridden White Man of this universe? I don't know.

Phil huffed. "[Well, SOME dog's been stomping around near the entrance. I can smell it. It'll confused the customers. Think we cater to preds. Do you have any friends?]

"[No, sir. No I don't.]" Then politely in English with a smile, "Thank you ever so much for rubbing it in."

That earned me a foul look. The whole predator / prey Night Howler thing hadn't hit the airwaves yet, this was just some home grown old fashioned speciesm.

I loved my problems, as long as they were anthro animal problems.

After Phil dismissed me, I went back to work and my thoughts shifted back to food and my encounter with the tiger and ox. Was the general societal opinion of predators one of pity? /Poor things, forced to eat others to survive!/ Against the combined might of the mighty multitudes of prey and in a modern world, "who has the advantage in a fight" is answered with simple numbers.

Is it? Or a sort of social agreement, paying for their keen noses able to detect health problems? /OUR keen noses/ I happily reminded myself.

I knew some predators got by on whey, bugs, fish, and other non-mammalian-meat sources of protein, but it's would be rude not to accept such personal gifts, wouldn't it?

It is what it is, I guess. I didn't have any crazy ideas about rocking the boat. I was content to let things slide and just enjoy the ride.

As I finished up the last load of dishes, I said to myself in English: "But now I have front row tickets to The Show." The I might exist only as words on a computer screen, but in stead of dwelling I smiled and nodded. "I mean, what's the harm in just watching? I'm not trying to save the day or anything."

Pausing my dish washing, I looked around and said to the Great Author (Arthur?) In The Sky, "If this were a story, this is where pitch black, ominous clouds would rumble thunder..." I waited for a few moments, and nothing happened. Nodding, I got back to washing and planning, satisfied this was NOT a story.

If I'd only taken a moment to look and see the critical discrepancy...


	6. Chapter 6 - Subversions

Maybe if I'd been able to find a bookie and predict the outcome of the Night Howler case, things might have turned out better. Might have made a little cash at least.

Oh, well. Anyway.

As it was, I knew who the players were. Nick Wilde, Judy Hopps, Chief Bogo, Mayor Lionheart, Lt. Bellweather, etc., etc. All that was really needed was to find them. And watch.

So I looked. Lemming Brothers Bank was fairly easy to track down, so I went there and wandered around a bit looking for a good hiding spot. It took me a while, but I decided on a public bench in the second floor skyway of an office building nearby.

Sure enough, Nick and Fennik appeared a little after noon. They set up shop with their stand and I drank in every detail. "I need to get a binoculars or something." It wasn't long before the two foxes bilked the lunch-ing lemmings for a tidy sum, and started to pack up.

Panicked, I hurried to follow. I forgot how many stairs there were from the skyway down to the street level! When I got down, I realized something.

I hadn't seen Judy. Not even any bunny smells. I smacked my head. I'm a wolf! I can just FOLLOW Nick's scent. No need to track him visually!

Still, "a lack of Judy" worried me. I thought for a bit, then -

"What rotten luck" I said in English. "Wrong day." Frowning, I looked around and decided to keep coming back until The Day came. I headed off to work.

* * *

The next day, though, I thought to try one of the side characters. I didn't have a car, so I didn't need to visit Flash at the DMV, so that left...

"Benamin J. Clawhauser the third, how is it my man?" I asked a confused and obese cheetah behind the ZPD receptionist desk.

"[Excuse me?]"

"[I apologize. I'm new to Zootopia. Tell me, sir - do you give tours?]" The Cheetah was still confused. I tried again, slower this time.

"[Oh! Tours! I'm sorry I'm not familiar with your accent." Maybe I wasn't as fluent in Zootopian as I thought. "So exotic! Yes, we DO give tours to the public. May I ask what group you're part of?]"

I gave him Billy's name and referenced the social services building. While he was looking on a schedule, I took in the view and watched other officers. It was pretty sparse, just a tiger officer coming in to work and a moose lab technician going over some notes. And...

"Jack Blackrabbit." I breathed in awe. He was just standing off to the side near some of the offices, checking something on his cell phone, facing away from the front desk where I was. I knew enough about the movie to know his role had been cut, and seeing him in a full dress suit just caught me off guard. The name just slipped out.

And if I'd been observant, I might have detected the slightest twinge of one of his ears.

But I wasn't. I looked away quickly, trying to remember more details. Like his name. "Was it 'Jackrabbit,' or something else? Blackthorn? He was supposed to be a precursor of Nick Wilde, so maybe Brutal? Jack Brutal? Well, it's not Jesse or Woolter..." I mumbled to myself. Clawhauser had found the right schedule, though, and in stead of continuing to talk to myself in an alien tongue in the center of the ZPD with a well trained giant-eared rabbit spy nearby, we scheduled a tour.

Heh. Well, I bet YOU guys know that Jack did next. I don't.

* * *

I can only say what I did next. I spied on Nick. (No Judy this time either.) After, I went to work, slept, and sneaked around to spy on Nick's operation for the third time. This time I was chewing on a snack while I waited for him to show up in my oh-so-well-hidden observation spot. Pfft.

"[Nice view, isn't it?]" I whipped my head guiltily around. This was bad. Nick Wilde himself was strolling up from behind! I pursed my lips as he sized me up. My gaze flit around the room, driven by paranoid thoughts. What if today was the day, and he'd already met Judy? Was I messing up the timeline?

I gulped. "[Yup.]" He casually locked eyes with me, pinning them and my thoughts down to one. Him.

"[Like what you see?]" I knew what he really meant, though. There was a casual but calculated smile on his face. He knew that I knew that he knew. I remembered something about the FBI. If they ask you a question, it isn't because they don't know the answer. They're just letting you have a chance to come clean. Nick's real question was "What's your angle?"

"[Y-y-yes. I mean no. I mean. I'm sorry.]" I used to write stories back on Earth. How did I not see this coming? What's wrong with me?

Nick magnanimously spread his paws wide and walked in a circle around me. "[What's there to be sorry about? We're just a pair of mammals appreciating a city view.]" My eyes were locked on Nick, taking in his fur, his eyes, his bushy tail.

But then I realized he'd given me an out. "[I didn't mean to disturb you, I saw you the other day and... well... I ... ]"

Nick just waited.

"[Yes, I DO like the view. Of you. I wanted to know if y- y- you were seeing anyone?]" As I realized what I just said, I realized I might be wrong about a tiny little possibility. In THIS universe, Nick might not be attracted to the ladies, after all...

But the fox considered my performance for a moment, then led me back toward the stairs to the street by a touch to the small of my back. He replied with a lie of his own. "[You're a very handsome wolf. And I think it's very cute you were so shy you thought you couldn't just ask.]" And then the scam. He produced a pawpsickle from behind his back. "[Want one?"] What he was really saying was "I saw you. Whatever you're up to, stop it, or things will get nasty, quick."

I blushed and bought two, effectively saying "You'll never see me again." So - Mission Accomplished.

Er - salvaged.

Disaster averted?


	7. Chapter 7 - Contradictions

The next day, I woke slowly, and did my morning routine. I held out my paw and looked at it front and back, and smiled.

Sighing, I knew that "Operation: Watch Nick and Judy Without Them Knowing" was a bust, with Nick much better at spotting than I am at hiding. Was I content with just watching the news when the case breaks? Keeping my head low as predator-prey tensions rise? As I'd written before, I had no ambition, until this gem of an idea "watch it first-hand" came to me.

Was "talking with Nick Wilde" enough for me?

I began pulling in breath for a slow, deep sigh. Held it for a moment or two. Let it go. To my little apartment's bare ceiling, I said "Yeah. It's probably for the best I leave well enough alone. Let it all play out." I nodded to myself, happy with my decision.

Then, as I sat up, I sensed I was not alone. A scent. The black fur from the diner? There was a whisper-quiet sound of clothing moving over a breathing chest. I shook my head and sniffed harder. "Rabbit." I sniffed again. "Hare?"

BANG.

* * *

The brown wolf was dead, single gunshot wound to the head. "Savage." Came a grim voice. He was speaking English, one of the tongues of the Otherworld. "Jack Savage is the name you were looking for." The rabbit spy took a step out of the shadow he'd been hiding in toward the corpse of a brown furred dangerous reality shaper named Arthur Pearson.

He'd wanted to live in a real world full of characters like those he'd seen in a movie on his Uber-Real version of reality, and so he dreamed his way into Jack's have even dreamed ME into existence, for all I knew. But since I was Jack Savage, elite member of this world's Secure Contain and Protect foundation, I had a duty.

I was just doing my job.

* * *

I woke suddenly, heart pounding, looking around the room and taking a good whiff looking for intruders. That was a dream of me dying. I wasn't dead. I wasn't Jack Savage. I was me. Arthur Pearson.

Wasn't I?

Paws on my bed and mind spinning wild, I slowly calmed myself and took stock. Nobody here but me. I looked at my paws.

I tried to change my paws with a thought, make them human again.

They stayed furry and clawed.

I sighed. "I'm not a Reality Shaper." I said to myself in relief. Then, thinking about it, I realized I should be at least a little disappointed.

Soon I was up and walking around, double-checking the apartment for any intruders. I confirmed no one was there. Just me. No Jack Savage.

But that dream got me thinking. I AM an otherworldly presence here in this slightly-more-realistic Zootopia. Don't I have an obligation to society to alert them to this breach of interdimensional barriers?

Maybe there are others from Earth here. Maybe... there are others from otherwhere here. Nefarious others from nefarious places.

I took a minute to consider this. A Zootopian member of their SCP foundation would be more equipped to recognize the real threat inderdimensional interlopers would pose.

Do I dare think I DESERVE to have this gift of visiting a childhood dream of a utopian anthropomorphic paradise?

For a few minutes, all I did was pace, and ponder.

Maybe, but it doesn't make sense. None of this does. Not to have my deepest wildest dreams come true out of the blue.

Something else is going on here, and if I've come from another world, then the authorities should know regardless of my safety or well being. I've already HAD the best time of my life. I don't need anything else. I've got it. I'm a wolf now in a wolf body I don't deserve, and it's about time I started giving back.

I set off immediately for the ZPD.

* * *

I could see there was a bored antelope on duty when I got to the front doors of the ZPD. I paused, thinking. /What about Nick and Judy? Clearly there is a timeline here, and I'm right at its beginning, when Nick was still a criminal grifter./

/This is in the middle of someone ELSE'S story!/ Suddenly, I grabbed my own tail and started wringing it. The alien twisting feeling on my spine distracted me, grounded me. Still wringing my tail, I curled in on myself a bit, sitting down on my butt near the ZPD entrance. It was about 4 AM. What was I doing?

With pursed lips, I stopped wringing my tail, and forced my ears back up. /I'm alerting the authorities to a possible alien invasion, that's what. An alien invasion that might affect their timeline and world. Heck, if worse came to worse I could anonymously let it slip Bellweather was behind the Night Howler attacks. Should they ever happen. Which they haven't yet. As far as I know.

Nodding several times while going over these facts, I got up again and walked inside.


	8. Chapter 8 - Who believes me

As a wolf, I can smell so many things. Where mammals had walked in grime, grass, chemicals, or food. What they ate and if it disagreed with them. The station had a good cleaning crew, but some smells you can't scrub away so easily. Not from a canine's nose. Blood. Fear.

/I could leave./ I thought. /I could back out right now, and maybe try riding this whole thing out. I don't have to do tests and talk to whatever authorities this world has. It's NOT Zootopia, not really. But Zootopia is a fantastic world, this is real life. They eat each other here. Respectfully, but still./

/They might eat me./

/But most of all, what was I thinking just waltzing in here?/

"[How may I help you?]" The antelope pushed his glasses up and put a book he had been reading down.

The ZPD was dark, here at 4:10 AM. The officer on duty must have been there since midnight. He had bags under his eyes. I was tired too.

/How CAN he help me? I don't have any proof I'm from another world! It's not like I'm still human here or anything! How DO I do this?/

After I took a breath, I just said, "I'm a human from Earth. This is not what I looked like a couple months ago, back on my world."

The antelope blinked. His name translated roughly to "Helmet Twistdent." I read his nametag out loud, and repeated in Zootopian what I'd just said in English.

Moment of truth, here. Do I get locked up in the looney bin, or at the Zootopian CDC?

Helmet gave me a look. "[Could you repeat that?]"

"[I am a] human [from the planet] Earth. [I do not belong here, and I do not know how I got transformed into a wolf. Just thought I'd let someone in authority know that there has been a breach in the interdimensional barrier. If I came through... others might have as well.]"

The antelope tried unsuccessfully to stifle an amused smile. "[Really.]" I nodded. "[And what ... do hue-mans who have been transformed into wovles (like yourself) ... DO here in Zootopia?]"

Looked like it was the "This guy belongs in a looney bin" option for me. I sighed and kept going with my story.

"[Oh. I'm just a dishwasher. Content to watch all you animals run around. I have no real ambition to do anything else. I just really thought I'd let you know I'm here, and there could be others like me in Zootopia.]"

His grin won another battle against his wishes, and he could have told me to go away, but said "[And is there any THREAT to Zootopia or the safety of citizens here because of this breach?]"

Shrugging, I said, "[I don't know. I'm certainly not. This is actually a dream of mine, to live in a world just like this. See animals just like all of you folk. I think every last one of you is beautiful.]"

Mammals like it when you compliment them. His smile became more appreciative for a moment and said, "[But these others, they might...]"

My shrugging muscles were getting another workout. "[I - I really don't know. I thought it might be possible, and if that were the case, I thought you should know. I know about these humans and how they think and their language, so if you have any criminals in lockup speaking gibberish like] My Country Tis Of The Sweet Land Of Liberty" (That last part I sang.) "[I could help translate.]"

Helmet got on the computer and started typing away. "[Hold on, hold on. I need to write this down.]"

/Well, at least he's writing a report about it./ I thought to myself.

* * *

By the time the first shift arrived, I hadn't finished telling Helmet everything, but he cut me short and said he'd call to continue the interview at a later date.

Frowning, I realized Jack Savage hadn't appeared, summoned silently by some "humans in zootopia!" silent alarm. I wasn't carted away in a striaghtjacket. Judy Hopps hadn't appeared.

/Judy./

I hadn't told him about knowing the future. How did I forget that? He kept asking about Earth and how it differs from Zootopia, and I forgot!

Turning back to Helmet, I saw him walking away and B.J. Clawhauser taking his place. I opened my mouth to start again, but realized two things.

#1 I was dead tired

#2 I'd have to repeat the whole thing to the jovial joking Clawhauser. Who'd take me even less seriously than Helmut did.

"Ugh." Shaking my head, I decided to get a nap before work and went home.

This was another point in time I could have realized the truth. Worked it out. I knew everything I needed to, really, to solve the riddle.

So that's what I told myself over and over again in the days and weeks to come. I was loopy from lack of sleep and paranoid delusions. That's why I forgot. That's why I missed it. I just couldn't connect the dots.

Not yet. Not until two days later, and by then it was too late.

* * *

The day in between I did done some mammal watching, just sitting on a park bench and watching as animals streamed by. It was wonderful.

Then, the day after, I went around sniffing and mammal watching, watched the news, and soon I was at work, scrubbing one vegetable stain away after the other. I had big yellow rubber gloves on my paws and a full-body furnet on my body.

The realization came to me slowly, remembering the news I'd just watched. It was the last piece of the puzzle for me, what tipped me over the top into solving it.

TWO missing mammals, an otter and a mouse.

I remember thinking it odd when I first read it, but at the time I couldn't put my finger on why. It wasn't until I was elbow-deep in dishes before I remembered what it was.

In the movie, only predators were missing.

Only predators.

But here, in slightly-more-realistic Zootopia where predators regularly stalked prey (for benign purposes) and prey took offense to predators refusing the gift of a meal...

I stopped washing as the truth bubbled up in my mind's eye like seeing a sunken severed head surface, jarred lose from the inky mud at the bottom of a rotten swamp.

A few bubbles in the sink that popped. I was frozen for a good 10 seconds, eyes wide in horror. There isn't going to be a happy reunion between Emmet and his wife. At least not as happy as the one in the kid's movie I remember. No way. Slightly more realistic?

I started stripping my work clothes off, and almost left out the front entrance in my hurry. As it was, I called to my manager I had to leave.

"[What for?!]" He cried, indignant.

"[Sick!]" It wasn't a lie. My stomach was in knots like I'd just eaten a rotten corpse myself.

Soon I was on the street and running on all fours, fast as I could. Reeling in horror, mentally beating myself up.

I was too tired two days ago, and now I was reeling in horror. At any point, including right then, I could have called 911. In stead, goggled at mammals and ran all the way to the police station to tell someone in person. Stupid, stupid. Too tired? Reeling in terror?!

Excuses, excuses.

* * *

"The Night Howler case! Bellweather! It's Bellweather!" The rhino looked at me odd. "Oh. I forgot - the 'night howler case' didn't get named until after."

"[What's your problem?]" His deep voice speaking Zootopian snapped me out of my daze.

"Oh, oh right. You don't understand English. Uh. [Bleatfeather.] No that's not it. [Bowlweevil.]" /Dangit, I can't remember how they pronounced it on the tv!/ "[What's the name of the assistant mayor?]"

The Rhino gave me a sneer like I'd grown an extra head. Made of poop. "[ASSISTANT? I don't pay attention to politics.]"

I growled in frustration. "[It's a sheep, a little girl I - Hey, what the? What's the big deal?!]" The rhino was rhinohandling me. Soon I was in cuffs and a muzzle. "[What's the deal?!]"

Disinterested, bored, and in complete control like it's just any other day, the rhino hauled me across the floor of ZPD. "[You are under arrest for bearing your fangs at a police officer. You have the right to an attorney.]"

"[What, WHAT?!]" I looked around me at all the other mammals, and pleaded as the rhino recited my rights. "[Somebody help! This is a misunderstanding! Come on!]"

Still being drug, I cried, "[Come on! He bared his teeth first!]"

/No! Those words! That quote! I... I was that wolf. That wolf in the muzzle!/ I spun my head around. There she was. Judy! I was too late!

As I was dragged, I witnessed Judy Hopps' first day, meeting Clawhauser.

First, seeing Nick pre-Hopps, and now, Hopps pre-Nick! Their native "realistic" zootopian language gave me a bit of a mind swirl, but things basically played out like I'd seen in the movie. It was really starting!

"[Ya see, it's okay when a bunny calls another bunny 'cute,' but when other ...]"

Reeling, staring dumbfounded, I was soon dragged to a cell.

That line from the movie I'd said - I didn't think to say it. I didn't plan it. I wasn't waiting with baited breath to say "my line." It just came out. Beyond my control.

I was so weak in mind, so easily confused. /Did I have ANY control? Was I mad to think I COULD change anything?/

/No. I CAN'T give up. I've got to try to save lives!/ I turned my head toward the rhino as he locked the cell he'd put me in. "No. [No! It's the mayor's assistant! You have to listen to me! The one behind the disappearances! It's her! Blowfeld! Bubblepop! Blibbitybloop! Argh! Somebody listen to me!]"

If this were fiction, then Bellweather would have been miraculously waiting right around the corner. She'd have waltzed out, and creepily smiled saying something like "I am. I heard everything." And locked me away where I couldn't tell anyone.

So I waited. It WAS fiction, wasn't it? I'm in a story?

But as my jailmates took notice of me, I looked around and realized Bellweather wasn't. She wasn't anywhere near. Nobody was listening. Nobody believed me.

"This IS reality. This IS real. But somehow... it's also NOT." Clutching my head. "Urgh. This is CRAZY!"

"[You okay, esse?]" Sneered a hyena with a mowhawk. His buddy warthog elbowed him.

"[Don't bother him, man. He's speaking in tongues. He's a religious man.]" They all started laughing at the joke.

Somehow, THAT made me snap. I grabbed the warthog by his denim lapels. "[It's a madhouse, A MADHOUSE!]" I realized then what I'd done too late. "Oh, boy."

The glares from the gang made me queasy.


	9. Chapter 9 - The Wrong One

My cell mates were kind and did NOT beat me up, as long as I stayed quiet.

But eventually, I DID manage to get my one phone call.

"[Billy, buddy. You're my only hope. Listen, you've got to get me out of here, and fast. I know who's been kidnapping the predators. And prey. I know what's going on.]"

The goat's voice came through the old phone receiver. "[Arthur? What did you see?]" The rhino guard was giving me a look. HE didn't believe me, for sure!

"[Gah, I can't remember. What's the assistant mayor's name?]"

There was some shuffling on the other end of the line. "[Clover Pettycoat, I think?]"

"AUIGH! Does no mammal pay attention to politics?!"

"[Calm down, pup.]"

I raised my hands. "[It's HER, Billy. What's her name.] Bellweather. [That's what it is in English, but not in Zootopian. She's behind it. Wanting to drive a wedge between predator and prey.]"

"[You don't sound too sure of it. You don't even know her name?]"

"[You don't either! Gah! Listen. You've got to get a message to Nick and Judy. They're working the case. Tell them to ask Stu about planting Night Howlers.]"

/Stu Hopps?! GARY Stu? That's me. This is fiction. This was never going to work at all! It's not reality! But it is!/ "ARGH!"

Gary on the other line was talking. "[I can be there in twenty minutes. Hold on. Don't do anything stupid.]"

"[Okay. Okay. Okay. I'll wait.]"

* * *

When he got there, there were a couple of burly bighorn sheep orderlies with my "friend" Billy the goat. I buried my face in my paws. I was exchanging one jail for another.

"[Billy, we're wasting TIME! Mammals are DYING!]" The jail cell opened and I shook my head. I wasn't going to resist him. Maybe there will be a better chance later. /I had Nick's and Judy's scents now, I might be able to track them down on my own./ I thought.

That thought sickens me to this day, too. Stupid, stupid.

"[Everything's going to be okay, Arthur. My two friends are just here to make sure you don't hurt yourself.]" Mind racing, I tried to think of some way to get away. Playing it dumb was easy to do with my confused mental state, and soon we were on our way out of jail and onto the street.

Then. It happened when they were leading me down the sidewalk toward their van. I yelped. Someone had smacked me.

With a paintball.

I wanted to kill myself. "Oh J**** f*** no, no, no!" I looked to my left and right at the two guards. They had nametags, but my vision was blurring. "Oh my gawd." I craned my neck and saw the Night Howler gas wafting and I tried to blow it away. But you have to suck in air before you blow, and I got a snootfull. Lunch and Dinner (that was their names, right?) - they grabbed me, sensing I was about to do something. I tried bolting. I tried getting away.

/Nick. Judy. I have to tell them!/ That was my last thought before all thoughts went away.

Stupid, stupid, STUPID.

Through the grapevine, apparently my ravings DID make their way to Bellweather's ears, after all.

* * *

Rukak struggled with the brown wolf. "Calm down, champ. You'll be in a straightjacket soon enough."

Billy glared back at the two orderlies struggling with Arthur. "Don't say the 's' word around patients."

Arthur growled then, all his fangs bared. He threw off Rukak's grip, bit Vicera, and wrestled him to the ground.

He was on Billy quickly. "Cud and crumpets!" Billy shouted, struggling to get away from the rampaging beast. Luckily, Arthur had some other targets in mind and left the goat lying on the ground. The two orderlies got up, and one gave chase, the other nursing a bite. Billy just watched them leave.

And despite being a few steps away from the very entrance of the ZPD, no one thought to ask for help. Arthur got away.

* * *

It like you were on painkillers. When on painkillers, you felt the pain, sure, but you're just okay with it. The night howler "high" was like someone said to me "Okay, we're doing this: killing mammals" and I was like "Okay."

It was like I was in control, but it was my "job" to kill and eat mammals. Eat Nick and Judy, specifically: the last thought I had before going under.

After living on the streets for a few months, I knew some of how to hide and scrounge for food. My memories of that time weren't too keen, but apparently I'd been staking out the natural history museum, knowing they'd show up there.

I got Judy by the leg and began gnawing as Nick struggled to realize what was going on, and Bellweather was gloating in the distance.

Hopped up on Night Howlers, I was going to kill and eat the stars of Zootopia.


	10. Chapter 10 - Aftermath

"[The blood was delicious and hot. I -hhh- ground my teeth, happy to have 'succeeded' in -hhh- in my drug-induced 'mission.']" The moment was hot in my memory. My story was almost done, and this - the most traumatic part - the most difficult part to talk about - made my heart race and I felt my cheeks flush. Nowhere to sweat, I was panting as I spoke.

"[And then Nick -hhh- was scratching me and my sensitive nose. -hhh- Biting. -hhh- Drawing MY blood. -hhh- Crushing MY nose and ear, -hhh- gouging my left EYE! -hhh- I was like: /What was HIS problem? -hhh- Was it HIS kill?/]"

"[/Well, fine. I'd done what I came to do. -hhh- I didn't need this crap./]"

"[So I left.-hhh- ]"

"[In the end, -hhh- I was far too good at avoiding the authorities, -hhh- and wasn't cured -hhh- until days after everything had -hhh- settled down.]"

"[After I'd killed -hhh- and ate -hhh- two -hhh- other -hhh- -hhh- -hhh- mammals...]" I took a deep breath around my panting, and screwed up the courage to look around me, tears welling up in my eyes.

It was weeks after I'd been caught and cured. A lean lion called Jennifer was right next to me and put a paw on my shoulder, nodding. Tigers, bears, a wolverine, Emmet, and a few other predators all sat around a circle, with a great big Walrus I named Phil directing the discussion.

Phil said, "[Thank you, Arthur, for sharing.]" He gestured with his massive flipper hands. "[As we all know, that's about par for the course (as it were) for predators under the Night Howler drug's influence. Most victims had made a victim or two of their own before being caught.]"

There were various murmuring assents and contrite words of support. He was right. The death toll reached around 30, half at the hands of the predators around this circle. During capture or their fights with prey, 3 of those 30 dead bodies were other predators.

I looked over to Emmet. He was doing better, but I was right, and his little scene wasn't as happy as the original movie's was. Emmet had swallowed a few mice before being caught, and that weighed on Mrs. Otterton so much she couldn't look at him for weeks.

Somehow, my eye wasn't irreparably damaged. Just gave me some permanent blurred vision in that eye, requiring glasses.

Again. I hadn't worn glasses since I was a Human.

It was weeks later during therapy with several of my fellow night howler predator victims that I met Jennifer. She was a thin and wiry. Her intended victim (a boar) had managed to break her right leg. So, in addition to talk therapy she needed physical therapy too.

We hung out together, chat, and groomed each other. She's the one that told me about "Concern Stalking." That's what they called what that tiger did for the ox all those weeks ago.

Oh. and whenever someone brought up the whole "human knowing the future" stuff I'd ranted about, I passed it off as being hit with an experimental version of the drug that drove me loopy.

I never remembered how Judy's leg got injured in the movie, but at some point, I learned how to properly pronounce Bellweather's name. But since I didn't think she deserved my attention, I promptly forgot it again, and only referred to her "Bellweather" in English.

Phil continued the conversation, asking questions of me and the other predators, working through what we'd done and how we cope every day since.

There was coffee and donuts, and I talked with Jennifer about another grooming session.

* * *

After the session, I took a walk and eventually found myself on a park bench overlooking a lake. This time taking in the sights of nature, not mammals. I sighed, and looked up at the sky.

"You know, if this WERE fiction... if this were, like, some 'Total Recall' deal where this is all just a memory implanted in my brain, I gotta say - kudos." I chuckled, sun warming my fur and my grass-gripping toes. "Good job. You had me going there, totally buying the whole thing. Forgot everything about how I got here, completely immersed." I nodded some more, and watched some more mammals walking by. "I grifted Nick Wilde. I bit Judy Hopps. What more can a fan ask for? This was a delicious Stu. Meat, carrots, and all."

Birds chirped. The wind rustled leaves in the trees. My tail drooped sadly at the memory of the lives lost.

The E-

* * *

A van from one of their many shell corporations with a cheery comic sans "Hello Macaroni!" logo on its side was parked down the block. Black colored, fully armed and armored bovines drug an unconscious brown wolf from the bench near the lake and into it quickly and efficiently.

Jack was watching from his vantage point, having just packed up the tranq gun. He was on the cell phone, in full suit with sunglasses. "Yes sir. I know, sir. ETA 20 minutes. Right. Over and out." He clicked it off, scowled, and looked at the ferret officer stationed with him on the roof. "This one took too long to track down. Longer than the higher ups liked."

He'd brought too much backup. The brown wolf had gone down without a fight. The officer next to him hefted his back-up tranq gun and said, "I heard about these. What's the procedure? Debrief, amnesiacs, and release?"

The rabbit shook his head. "Trans dimensional traveler. Amnesiacs would just erase what he's learned of our world. Wouldn't make him eligible for release. He isn't some random mammal that saw something odd we have to erase." Jack raised his glasses and considered the scene. The doors swung shut on the van, hiding Arthur Jeremy Pearson (former human from Earth) from view.

"So no amnesiacs."

"Nope." Jack put his glasses back down. "And what do we do with things we can't release, soldier?" Shrugging, the ferret said three words matter-of-factly:

"Secure. Contain. Protect."


End file.
